"Don't be frightened; answer these questions!" "For God's sake, gentlemen!" grasped the verger.

"What--what is it?
What am I to answer?
Before God, I'm as innocent as--as any of you--about Mr.
Brake's death! Upon my soul and honour I am!" "You know all about it;" insisted Mitchington.
"Come, now, isn't it true that you're Flood, and that Folliot's Wraye, the two men whose trick on him got Brake convicted years ago?
Answer that!" Flood looked from one side to the other.

He was leaning against his tea-table, set in the middle of his tidy living room.

From the hearth his kettle sent out a pleasant singing that sounded strangely in contrast with the grim situation.
"Yes, that's true," he said at last.

"But in that affair I--I wasn't the principal.